


it's just medicine

by hephaesticn



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Domesticity, Immortality, M/M, Vampirism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 03:39:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5032324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hephaesticn/pseuds/hephaesticn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What if,” Baz starts, but his voice is scratchy and dry, and he clears his throat, tries again. “What if I’m – I’m immortal.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's just medicine

Baz doesn’t have any classes in the morning today, which is why instead of getting up at some ridiculously early hour of the morning and getting ready before Simon’s even begun to regain consciousness, he’s sprawled out on the bed, tangled up in the sheets with his hair falling loose into his eyes; sunlight catches on his pale skin and he almost looks like he’s glowing.

And it’s stupid, because they've been together for _ages_ and have known each other for even longer but— But he looks _gorgeous_ like this, like he must have come from a dream, a figment of Simon’s imagination, but he’s not. He’s _not_ , and that’s the best part of it all, because magic’s gone and Watford’s gone and everything Simon thought he could never live without is gone, but Baz— _Baz_ is solid and tangible and _real_ , so real that it still makes Simon’s heart ache, even after all this time.

Without thinking he leans over and kisses him, softly, on the mouth. Baz’s lips twitch into a smile, and then his eyes are blinking open, bright and grey and _real_ , and Simon kisses him again just for that. Just because he _can_.

Simon has a lecture in half an hour and Baz knows it, but he only bitches about it for two minutes which means he doesn’t really want Simon to leave either. And so Simon takes it as an invitation to press Baz into their sheets, kiss him deeply, let Baz slide his hand up Simon’s back and kick off the sheets tangled at his ankles, and when Simon breaks the kiss Baz just smiles back up at him, and it’s perfect. It’s perfect and so unbelievably real.

After they finally manage to extricate themselves from the confines of their bedroom they go for breakfast at some ridiculously hipster café that Simon hates, but their tea is apparently _to die for_ , or so Baz says, and so they make their way there anyway, having an easy argument about what to order as they make the slow walk there together, hands barely brushing the whole time. Baz orders some outlandishly expensive eggs benedict with some even more outlandishly expensive tea, and Simon almost wants to say something about it but doesn’t because every single time he’s tried to talk to Baz about _being careful with finances_ and _not spending too much money_ Baz has looked at him like he’s just spontaneously sprouted a second head ( _stupid spoiled rich asshole_ , Simon thinks vindictively, then stops because Baz is letting Simon spend his money too and he supposes he can’t really be angry about that without being a hypocrite). Instead he orders pancakes and a simple cup of coffee, and they settle down at a table near the corner of the café easily.

After breakfast they go grocery shopping, and as per routine Simon just lets Baz power through the aisles and drop the appropriate boxes into their cart without interfering (one time very early into their cohabitation Baz had sent Simon out onto a solo shopping trip and he’d returned with everything _but_ what Baz had told him to buy, and after that they both agreed that grocery shopping was strictly under Baz’s purview). They stop by at a bookstore so Baz can check out the new non-fiction arrivals and Simon can buy the latest release of his favourite comic book series, and then they return home with the rest of the day stretching out ahead of them.

They end up on the sofa, kissing, because, _duh_. Simon is busy leaving a very thorough hickey on Baz’s neck when he suddenly remembers something.

“Hey,” he says, pulling back. Baz is shooting him a dirty glare that can be roughly translated to _why on earth did you stop you utter bloody fool_ but Simon shakes his head, and soon Baz is sitting up too, giving Simon a puzzled look.

“Um,” Simon says. “I just – suddenly remembered.” Baz just blinks at him. “Your mum,” Simon says, and Baz’s expression immediately hardens. Instinctively Simon reaches out, strokes his thumb across Baz’s cheek.

“She told me to give you this.”

And then he leans in and kisses him on the forehead, just as how Baz’s mother had done all those years ago. It’s strange that he’s only just remembering it _now_ , but – better late than never, Simon supposes.

When he pulls away Baz’s expression has softened, but there’s still something sharp and painful in his eyes. Simon sighs, pulls Baz into his arms, presses him flush against his chest.

“Maybe we’ll get to see her again, the next Visiting,” Simon says gently. Although he can’t see Baz’s face he can still hear it when Baz huffs.

“Well _I_ will,” Baz drawls, his voice muffled from where he’s pressed his face against the crook of Simon’s shoulder. “As for you… well, really, that depends on whether I’ve hexed you to death out of sheer exasperation by then.”

Simon snorts. “If you do that I’ll just cosy up to your mum in the afterlife. We can both talk about how bloody annoying you are.”

It’s an easy opportunity for Baz deliver a sarcastic remark; but instead he remains quiet, tenses up against Simon’s chest, and Simon pulls back, eyes narrowed.

“Baz?” he says. Baz turns away.

“Baz, what's wrong?” Simon scoots over to him, but Baz is resolutely _not_ meeting his gaze. “Was it something I said? You’re not annoying, you know, you’re absolutely _brilliant_ , and I—”

“It’s not about _that_ , you dimwitted simpleton,” Baz mutters.

“Then what, Baz? Tell me, please.”

Maybe it’s the earnestness in Simon’s voice, but Baz finally turns to look at him.

“What if,” Baz starts, but his voice is scratchy and dry, and he clears his throat, tries again. “What if I’m – I’m immortal.”

Simon visibly blanches at the mention of it. They’ve talked about it, but – but it’s always been in the quiet of the night, after Simon woke up to see Baz with his face scrunched up in the middle of another nightmare and Simon had to wake him up, had to hold him until he stopped shaking, hold him and tried not to think about just how cold his skin felt against Simon’s, thought only of the way Baz seemed so small and fragile, then, in those moments.

“Baz—” Simon begins, but Baz glares at him, and he shuts up.

“Look, I just…” Baz pauses, exhales, runs a hand through his hair. “I just suddenly thought. What if one day my dad dies and my stepmum dies and my siblings die and _you_ die and I outlive everyone I’ve ever known, and a hundred years later I find myself hiding underground just like fucking _Nicodemus_ because I won’t have anywhere else to go by then, and _you_ —”

“Baz,” Simon says again. “Baz, shut up, you’re rambling, stop it—”

“ _You_ shut up, Snow, you can’t _possibly_ have a clue—”

“ _Baz_ ,” Simon shouts. He’s holding Baz’s wrists in his hands, gripping them so tightly it feels like they might bruise but he doesn’t care, he _can’t_ dare, anything to stop making Baz say those horrible things, and suddenly it reminds Simon of a moment so many years ago, when they stood in the middle of a forest fire and Baz was rambling his head off again, and Simon—

Simon kisses him.

Instantly Baz relaxes against Simon’s grip. It’s almost like all the air gets punctured out of him at once; he slumps against Simon, lets his head fall against Simon’s shoulder.

“Do you remember what you told me?” Simon murmurs. “That day, in the White Chapel?”

Baz doesn’t respond.

“You told me,” Simon continues, “that you’d Turn me, and then we’d spend the rest of our stupid immortal lives together, making each other miserable.”

“Speak for yourself,” Baz mutters.

“I know you weren’t serious that time,” Simon soldiers on, running a hand through Baz’s hair. “But – but if it ever comes to that. I’d do it, in a heartbeat. I’d do it for you.”

“You’re crazy,” Baz says.

“It’s your fault,” Simon counters. He’s smiling, now, smiling in spite of everything. “You’ve finally driven me mad, after all this time.”

“Thank Merlin.” Baz has pulled away to look up at Simon, and he’s smiling too, and that’s how Simon knows he’s going to be okay. They’re both going to be okay. “I was wondering how long it would take for my nefarious plan to work.”

Simon kisses him, and Baz melts into it, tangles his hands in Simon’s curls, and they don’t speak for a long time afterwards.

 _Real_ , Simon thinks. _Real,_ and _here_ , and _mine_.

 


End file.
